


Invisible Boyfriend

by dragonfly_moonlight



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-26
Updated: 2010-09-26
Packaged: 2017-10-12 05:43:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/121430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonfly_moonlight/pseuds/dragonfly_moonlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chromia mourns Ironhide's loss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Invisible Boyfriend

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Transformers or the characters contained within. I do not profit from writing this story, either. All song lyrics within are owned by the respective bands and artists who wrote/sang them.

_"The man of her dreams  
has returned to her dreams.  
She's by herself or so it would seem  
to a casual observer, like I am."_  
- _Invisible Boyfriend_ , Continental Drifters, 1995

It was not happening. It could not be happening. She would be waking at any moment now, and the words she was hearing would not be spoken. Everything would be fine.

"I'm so sorry, Chromia . . ."

She refused to believe it. If she did, her world would end. She felt it within her soul.

"Prime had given his orders . . . he was on the shuttle when the Decepticons attacked . . ."

But no matter how much she tried to deny it, no matter how much she wanted to believe otherwise, Chromia could not escape the truth. It glared at her, smacking her in the face and laughing the entire time.

". . . wasn't anything we could do for them . . ."

Ironhide was dead. He died before the shuttle even reached Earth. Somehow, she knew he had fought to the end, but it was not enough. A vision of Megatron standing over him, smirking, entered her mind, and it sent a fresh wave of grief rolling through her.

". . . no survivors."

Chromia sat there, numb, as Rodimus Prime and Ultra Magnus told her the one whom she loved most in the universe was gone. Her face was emotionless, but deep inside, she felt everything she held dear slipping away. After she had met Ironhide vorns and vorns ago, she had not been able to see herself living the rest of her life with anyone else but Ironhide. He possessed life and vibrancy and fire. One look from him had been able to make her feel weak in her knees. Now . . . now he was gone, and there was nothing anyone could do to bring him back.

Rodimus watched Chromia, worried about her reaction all the while feeling guilty and downright rotten. Knowing he could do nothing for her made him feel even worse; there were no words to alleviate the pain and the shock she had to be experiencing. He got up to leave. The new Autobot leader wanted to stay, to talk with her, but he felt as if he would be intruding on something Chromia may not have wanted anyone to see.

As he walked past her, he gently laid a hand on her shoulder, his expression one of great concern. The light blue Femme barely acknowledged his touch.

"Chromia, if you need anything, please let me know. I'll be there for you, whenever you need me," he murmured. "I promise. Just say the word."

"Thank you, Rodimus." Her voice was dull. She did not even meet his optic.

Rodimus sighed inwardly as he and Ultra Magnus left. He felt like a heel for leaving, but there was nothing for it. He already extended an invitation to talk, something he believed Optimus would have done as well.

'But then Optimus would have stayed,' he told himself. 'He wouldn't have left her to grieve on her own. I'm such a coward.'

"Do you think she'll be okay, Magnus?" he asked once they were in the hallway, keeping his tone low.

"With Chromia, it's hard to say," Ultra Magnus replied. "Out of all the Femmes, she's always been the strongest, bearing just about anything and everything."

They continued on in silence after that.

She did not know how long she sat there in the darkness; she did not care, either. The darkness was welcoming in a strange, surrealistic way. It was like an old lover, something she could not escape, even if she had wanted to do so.

For a long time, she had tried convincing herself that Ironhide was not dead, that he would come walking in as he always did, grouchy over something or another. He was too damned stubborn to die so there was no way he could be dead. The vision of Megatron dealing that final blow was nothing more than a bad dream.

However, he never came. The lights never switched, and sorrow and despair began to consume her.

The realization started setting in. Tears began to stream down her cheeks, blurring her vision. Ironhide was not returning to her ever again, and everything she ever wanted for after the war disappeared like smoke carried away on the wind.

She looked around her quarters. She did not need the lights on to remember. Wherever she looked, she recalled some memory: his voice, how he would laugh at some joke she would tell him, his kiss, the strength and comfort of his arms at night . . . Everything that had made Ironhide who he was remained in their shared quarters, driving her despair and sorrow deeper into her soul.

Rage swelled up inside her. Without even thinking, she punched the walls repeatedly until she could no longer stand the pain her hands. After she used the walls as punching bags, she walked over and ripped the computer console out and threw it across the room, watching it as the screen shattered into thousands of pieces. Then she overturned the recharge berth, and tore pictures from the walls. Some of them flew across the room as well, the sound of glass breaking filling the room.

After the final picture slammed against the wall, Chromia collapsed to her knees, more rage still pent up inside her. From the soft glow of the recharge berth, she saw the final picture she had thrown and she took a closer look at it.

Through the shattered glass she saw herself with Ironhide. They were holding each other, smiling, and unaware of the camera on them.

 _"Every time our eyes meet, this feeling inside me is almost more than I can take."_

She smiled faintly at the memory . . .

They had just had an argument earlier that day, and she had stormed out on him. She did not look back as she did so. His hurt expression would have torn her to pieces, and Chromia wanted to be mad at him for a little while longer. She wanted her words to be true, that things were over between them. She could not stand the thought of him leaving her again as he had done over four million years before.

She had spent the day alone, upset, and depressed. They had called it quits before but somehow it was different that time.

 _"Baby, when you touch me, I can feel how much you love me and it just blows me away."_

She did not want to lose him again; she had realized it that day. However, she was not ready to go back. She could not face him, not after the hurtful things they had said to each other.

A light touch on her shoulder had brought her out of her reverie. Startled, she had looked up and saw him standing behind her. He had looked so sad and even a bit frightened, if it were possible; the sight of his misery had ripped her apart inside . . .

Chromia's smile brightened a bit at the memory. His apology had been so sweet and so sincere, even though he really had not done anything wrong. Later that night, he had found a song that touched them both, probably more than what they had realized at the time.

Her smile faded as she thought about that song and the words to it . . .

 _"I don't know how you do what you do, I'm so in love with you. It just keeps getting better. I wanna spend the rest of my life, with you by my side forever and ever. Every little thing that you do, baby, I'm amazed by you."_

She curled up into a tight little ball, crying softly, and whispering into the stillness, "Why? Why did you have to leave me? Primus, it isn't fair . . ."

* * *

 _"In the back of the dimly lit room  
stands a woman alone, or so you'd assume.  
But there to her right, all through the night,  
stands her invisible boyfriend."_  
- _Invisible Boyfriend_ , Continental Drifters, 1995

Chromia bolted up. She checked her chronometer and found that several hours had gone by. For a moment, she forgot about her visit from Rodimus and Ultra Magnus with their news. She also forgot about the rage that had led to her exhaustion and the reason for that rage.

"What am I doing on the floor?"

She looked around in the dim light and saw her quarters in shambles and the shattered picture close by. Slowly, the previous night's events unfolded in her memory banks. Fresh tears formed in her optics as she picked up the picture and held it close to her.

"I didn't even get the chance to say good-bye."

She shut her optics in an effort to block the pain. She could not bear it any longer, but it remained, throbbing like a steady beat of a fuel pump.

"Where do I go from here? We were supposed to live together . . . not this . . ."

She shuddered, sobbing uncontrollably. She could not help herself, really. Though she had not meant for it to happen, she had fallen in love with Ironhide, and their worlds had mixed together so unbelievably well. He was her fire and she his ice. She felt alone, adrift in a sea of misery with nothing and no one to guide her back to the safety of land.

A few moments had passed when Chromia felt, or imagined she felt, a familiar touch on her shoulder. She looked up, expecting to see Ironhide standing there, ready to give her the comfort she so desperately needed. Smiling, she opened her optics to look at him. She knew he would never have left her by herself.

However, he was not there. There was no one behind her, ready to soothe her and dry her tears. Chromia hung her head and tried to fight the painful tears once more. Again, the same song came, unbidden, to her mind.

 _"The smell of your skin, the taste of your kiss, the way you whisper in the dark. Your hair all around me, baby, you surround me. You touch every place in my heart."_

Chromia did not hear anything as the song played itself over and over again in her mind.

Rodimus knocked on Chromia's door a second time. When she did not answer, he began to worry. Something was not right. Cautiously, he opened the door and peered in. What he saw shocked him.

The place resembled a hurricane zone, broken glass and machinery everywhere. In the middle of it sat Chromia. She was holding a picture close to her as she cried. He rushed over to her and cradled her in his arms.

He wanted to tell her things would be okay but he knew he would be lying. In one short moment, her life had been turned upside down. Things would never be the same again. He did not know what to do, and he felt more than a little responsible for the agony she was enduring.

Elita spared him that part of the agony for she walked by at the moment and heard Chromia's ragged sobs. She looked into her friend's room and quietly entered.

Rodimus looked at Elita when he heard footsteps behind him. Her face was pained as well, and his guilt threatened to overwhelm him.

"Elita . . ." he began. He felt helpless, much like he had when Megatron blasted Optimus, delivering mortal blow after mortal blow, and the Autobot leader despised the sensation.

"It's okay, Rodimus. I'll take care of her." Elita tried smiling gently at him, but there was no sincerity in the gesture. She knelt in front of Chromia.

Chromia became aware of the fact that she was no longer by herself. She felt strong arms around her and she heard Rodimus and Elita talking. Slowly, she opened her optics and wiped away her tears. Elita looked at her.

"May I . . . .?"

Elita held out a hand to the picture Chromia held. Chromia nodded and reluctantly relinquished the frozen memory to her friend. Regaining some of her composure, she pulled away from Rodimus and stood up. Rodimus and Elita stood up as well, Elita's optics on the picture.

Feeling a bit out of place, Rodimus quietly excused himself and left.

"Chromia, come stay with me for a while. I'm worried about you being by yourself." Elita looked up from the photo. She knew all too well the pain her best friend was enduring. She received similar news as well, and Elita knew how much shock she still felt from the revelations. A part of her wanted to deny that Optimus was not dead, but the proof glared at her every time she saw Rodimus. It was not fair, but she knew she had to be strong for herself and for her team. As a result, she found herself new quarters so she would not be reminded of everything she had lost in the final battles. Elita did not want her best friend to be alone, either, and she feared the light blue Femme would do something drastic, like try to join Ironhide in the afterlife.

Chromia remained quiet, her optics focused on something else. Elita looked and saw what had captured Chromia's attention. It was a journal of some kind, which puzzled the Femme leader. She never recalled her friend ever keeping a log of her thoughts, and she looked back at Chromia.

"Chromia?" Elita reached over and touched her friend's shoulder.

Chromia had not heard Elita speak nor did she feel her leader's hand on her shoulder. Once she saw the journal, she forgot she was not alone, and she wondered how she had missed the thing in her tirade. She knew he had the leather-covered datapad – it had been a gift from Ratchet about five or six years ago – but Ironhide had always kept his journal under lock and key, as the humans often said. The journal contained his most inner thoughts and fears. Why was it out where she could now see it?

 _"I've never been this close to anyone or anything. I can hear your thoughts. I can see your dreams."_

"Chromia!"

She looked at Elita, startled. The Femme leader's optics were wide with concern, and Chromia finally felt her friend's hand on her shoulder. She also saw the same emotions she felt on Elita's face, and she felt the pain of loss all over again.

"Oh, sorry, Elita." She looked away, fighting tears. "I was just . . . remembering something."

Elita gave her friend a hug, knowing exactly what Chromia was going through. Looking around, Elita definitely thought it best if Chromia no longer stayed in the quarters she and Ironhide had shared. The memories had to be overwhelming.

"Chromia, you shouldn't be alone. Come stay with me, please?" she asked. It was a truth Elita believed, but she also did not want to be by herself. At least with Chromia around, she would not have to face the nights alone. Neither Femme would.

She released Chromia and looked closely at her. The light blue Femme shook her head.

"Thanks, Elita, but I'd rather stay here. I can't leave here," she said.

"Why, Chromia? It can't be easy to be here," Elita murmured. "Please? It'll only be for a few days or however long you feel you need. I promise."

"Because . . ." Her voice faltered. "I simply can't leave. This is where I belong, Elita."

"Chromia . . ." Elita began. She knew she could always order Chromia out of her quarters, but she did not want to do anything detrimental to her friend's emotional and mental state. Taking Chromia forcibly from a place she felt connected to would be more harmful than helpful, but Elita was determined to at least try and convince her friend to leave, if only for a few days.

"You're welcome to say if you want to, Elita, but I'm not leaving. This is my home." Her tone confirmed it, speaking with a strength the pale pink Femme believed Chromia did not feel.

However, Elita felt a bit of relief. Chromia letting her stay was a concession she wanted someone with her, in the Femme leader's mind. At least, she would not be alone at night and facing the yawning chasm she sensed in front of her. She set the picture down.

"Okay. I'm taking you up on it. I'll be back in a bit," Elita murmured.

Chromia nodded. Elita stared at her friend for a moment longer, trying to gauge if she should even really leave at that moment. Chromia had taken Ironhide's death a lot harder than anyone ever expected, if the state of their shared quarters was any kind of an indication. However, she needed a few of her own personal effects, and she received the impression Chromia needed a bit of time to herself. Without saying another word, Elita squeezed Chromia's shoulder gently then left.

Alone once more, Chromia started cleaning up her quarters, her optics avoiding the journal for the most part. The temptation to read it and find out what his last thoughts had been was tempting, and a part of her wondered why he had not taking the journal with him to Moonbase One. As she worked, her thoughts wandered away from the journal and to another moment they had shared. The mess especially reminded her of Ironhide. One day in particular started to stand out as she gathered the old photos together . . .

"I don't believe this mess!"

The exclamation had only made him laugh harder. In fact, he was laughing so hard, he lay on the floor, doubled over. It was like he could not stop, no matter how he tried. Then again, Chromia was not sure Ironhide wanted to stop laughing.

Elita had accompanied her on her way back to her living quarters. Upon entering the room they had seen one huge mess on the floor and walls, an embarrassed Optimus Prime covered in glue and red and pink construction paper, and a laughing Ironhide. Ironhide's amusement only served to further Prime's embarrassment and Chromia's ire.

"We, uh . . ."

"We what?" She had worked a rather long shift in the command center, she was exhausted, and she had been very upset to see such a mess of her quarters. Ironhide's apparent delight over the situation did not help any. What had made it worse was Elita had joined Ironhide in laughing . . .

Chromia chuckled. Once Ironhide had calmed down enough he had explained that he and Optimus had been trying to prepare a surprise for the two and they had come back sooner than expected.

 _How do I get through a night without you? If I had to live without you, what kind of life would that be?_

It had been a special day on Earth, a day called Valentine's Day. Blaster had been instrumental in finding a song for Optimus to dedicate to Elita. Chromia had privately wished Ironhide would do the same but he had not done any such thing. Why, she was never able to explain, and she never had the chance to ask him.

Chromia sat down.

 _"Oh, I need you in my arms, need you to hold. You're my world, my heart, my soul. If you ever leave, baby, you'd take away everything good in my life. And tell me now how do I live without you? I want to know . . ."_

"You never dedicated anything to me." Her voice was barely a whisper as she spoke. "Why didn't you dedicate anything to me?"

 _"But I did."_

She jumped up and looked around. She knew she had heard Ironhide's voice, but the room remained stubbornly empty.

"Ironhide?" she said. A part of her held her breath as she waited, and prayed for him to say something more. She knew she was not imagining things. His voice had been loud and very clear.

However, there was no reply when she said his name, and she started to wonder if maybe she had imagined hearing him speak. The dead could not come back and talk. It was simply an illogical thought and notion, but her reasoning did not make her feel any better. If anything, she felt worse and more than a little guilty.

Shaking her head and pushing her memories, and her emotions, back, Chromia resumed cleaning.

A few hours later, Elita knocked on Chromia's door. The pale pink Femme carried a small duffel bag with items she required, but no photos. The last thing she wanted was to keep reminding herself, and Chromia, of their now deceased partners. A dull voice answered.

"Come in."

Elita entered and looked around. It was slowly shaping up but it was still pretty bad. Chromia was sitting in a chair, looking very exhausted and gazing at a photo. In her lap sat the journal and another, and a fresh wave of tears streamed down her cheeks.

"Chromia?"

Slowly, Chromia turned her head to look at her. She looked so lost and so lonely, it broke Elita's heart.

"I can't believe he's gone, 'Lita. I can't. Too much was left unsaid and undone."

Elita nodded, fighting back her own tears. She could not afford the luxury of breaking. "I know exactly what you mean. What have you got there?"

She knelt beside Chromia, looking at the photo. "I remember that time. It was that Valentine's Day they tried to surprise us."

Chromia let out a ragged sigh. "So do I." Both stared at the photo of them with their mates.

 _"But I know I must go on. Although I hurt, I must be strong, because inside I know that many feel this way . . ."_

For three days, Chromia stayed in her quarters. Many understood she needed time and space to cope with the devastating news she had received from Rodimus Prime and Ultra Magnus. Many even sympathized with the Femme. Ironhide may have been an ornery old codger, but he also had been a likeable ornery, old codger. He had always known the right thing to say to boost morale, and his . . . enthusiasm for the cause had always been somewhat infectious. There was not much in life that he had not seen, and nearly every Autobot had expected him to survive the attack on the shuttle. He had outlived at least two other leaders before Optimus Prime took over, and his presence seemed like it would always be a permanent fixture among the Autobots. His death had come unexpected to everyone, and even those who had not always liked the red Mech felt his loss keenly.

No one approached her right away when she finally emerged, Elita gently nudging her along. Many of them wanted to walk up to her, give her a hug, and express their sympathies, but the words failed them. All they could do was watch as the Femme leader finally brought Chromia among them and wonder where the vibrant blue Femme had disappeared.

"Where are we going, Elita?" Chromia asked.

"For the moment, the Rec Room," Elita replied. "After that, I don't know. We'll just have to see what happens."

"Elita . . ." the blue Femme began.

"Chromia, it won't hurt to be out for a while," Elita said. "And it'll help to be in the company of others. They miss Ironhide, too. They know. They understand."

Chromia sighed as they continued on.

The Rec Room was fairly noisy, but it was not the normal din it usually saw. The lights were dim as everyone talked solemnly. A collection of songs played in the background, all of them somber in mood and tone. Sorrow and grief permeated the air. Optimus Prime and Ironhide were not the only casualties from the final battles, but more than just the individuals died those days. When they left, they took with them all of their knowledge and their experiences, things everyone there needed and missed dearly.

Chromia stood in the back of the room, a drink in one hand. From across the room she watched Elita talking with Kup, Arcee, Springer, and Firestar. She knew she was welcome to join them but she felt better where she was. She could almost feel Ironhide's arm around her shoulders and hear him whispering along with a few songs here and there. Suddenly, it did not seem so bad to be there, and a faint smile touched her lips.

* * *

 _"I watch her turn and then smile at the air,  
halfway expecting to see him right there.  
And when he's not, her face just drops.  
Meet the invisible boyfriend."_  
- _Invisible Boyfriend_ , Continental Drifters, 1995

A couple of weeks later, an announcement was made: A wake was going to be held with the Memorial Tomb being sent into deep space the following day. Rodimus requested that all Autobots be in attendance. Even those on duty for patrols and shifts in the command center would be excused for this one moment.

The wake was held in the Rec Room. The lights were still dimmed. Everyone in attendance was somber and spoke in hushed tones. It was also well noted how far Chromia stood away from them, and it was not lost on anyone that she did not want to be there. To be there meant to accept the truth and have it cemented into her soul for the rest of her life. The one she loved the most was not returning to her.

Ultra Magnus watched her closely from where he stood. He could not help but worry for his friend. He had known her and Ironhide for many millennia. Both had been strong, determined to endure whatever life threw their way, even if it meant the loss of good friends and colleagues. This, however, was more than what either of them could have handled, losing each other to death.

 _She seems to be all right._

His comm link crackled with a bit of life, and Ultra Magnus secured the link so no one would hear.

 _Ultra Magnus. . ._

 _Yes, Blaster?_

 _I'm getting requests for some tunes . . ._

 _Keep it appropriate, Blaster._

 _Will do. Blaster out._

Softly, Aerosmith's _I Don't Wanna Miss a Thing_ began to play. Some Autobots shook their heads while some just smiled. It was an oddly appropriate tune, though the Autobot second-in-command could not figure out why. Ultra Magnus then turned his attention back to Chromia.

Her optics had closed and she had a soft smile on her face, an energon drink in one hand. It was as if she were listening to someone speaking to her, though there was no one next to her. Slowly, she opened her optics and turned to her right, her smile becoming brighter, as if she expected someone to be standing right there.

With a pang of sorrow, Ultra Magnus knew that she was expecting Ironhide to be standing right there. The only times he had ever seen her smile softly like that were when Ironhide was next to her, and they were simply there to relax. He felt himself being ripped into pieces when she saw that he was not there, and her face dropped. Wanting to comfort her, Ultra Magnus started to walk over to her but she quietly excused herself and left before he could reach her.

"Do you think she'll be okay, Magnus?" Kup had walked up to him when he saw his friend approaching the femme. He, too, had been watching the light blue Femme, and his concern was evident in his voice.

"I don't think so, old friend. I don't think so," he said quietly.

Instead of heading to her quarters right away, Chromia walked outside, the words still ringing in her mind. She could not muster the strength to chase the lyrics out and replace them with something else, even though they were painful to have echoing in her thoughts. They felt like something Ironhide would have said to her . . . if he had not been so damned stubborn and tight-lipped at times when it came to how he felt. She knew he kept a lot of his emotions towards her private. She had done the same thing. It was a means of protecting her and himself. The last thing either of them had wanted was for the enemy to use them against each other in a battle.

 _"I could stay awake just to hear you breathing, watch you smile you're sleeping, while you're far away and dreaming. I could spend my life in this sweet surrender. I could stay lost in this moment forever . . ."_

She looked up at the full moon, fighting the tears welling up in her optics. _How many times,_ she thought. _How many times did we say goodbye to each other? How many times did we part only to be reunited? Why does that damn song have to hurt so much?_

"I don't wanna close my eyes," she whispered. "I don't wanna fall asleep cuz I'd miss you, baby, and I don't wanna miss a thing. Even when I dream of you, the sweetest dream will never do, I'd still miss you, baby, and I'm already missing everything."

She turned and walked back to her quarters, choking back tears.

* * *

 _"Ask her a question, she'll answer it kind  
but all would agree she's got more on her mind.  
Look in her eyes, watch how she tries  
to hold herself back from crying."_  
- _Invisible Boyfriend_ , Continental Drifters, 1995

Rodimus watched silently as the Autobots slowly filed into the room. He took in each face that was lined with grief and sorrow; he knew his was, too. One could only be strong for so long before the world crashed around him or her, breaking all barriers and consuming the individual with guilt.

He noticed the Femmes stood a small distance away from everyone else, giving each other comfort, especially Elita. His guilt doubled when he looked at her. _It's because of me that her dreams will never come true. I'm so sorry, Optimus._ He averted his attention away from Elita only to have it fall on Chromia.

Chromia had him, and a few others puzzled. When she had initially wrecked her quarters, he thought that there would be more outbursts like that from her. Instead, she had become withdrawn, distracted, quietly excusing herself before anyone could approach her. Even now, she stood close to her fellow Femmes, close enough to offer her leader and her best friend comfort in Elita's time of need, but she still remained far enough so no one could do the same for her. He could not name the change he was seeing within her, and it bothered him. What was he, and everyone else, missing? Why was she withdrawing just when she needed everyone the most?

A light tap on his shoulder brought him out of his musings. Springer and Ultra Magnus stood behind him, waiting patiently. Both Mechs looked sorrowful, like they wanted to be anywhere but where they were.

"Everyone's here," Ultra Magnus said, his tone low.

"Then let's not prolong this any longer." He took his place at the entrance of the tomb. With a heavy heart, Rodimus began the ceremony.

An hour later, the last body of the fallen had been placed inside and the tomb began its journey into deep space. A few Autobots, including Chromia, watched it go while the rest wandered about aimlessly, waiting to give his or her condolences to a very grief-stricken Elita. The Femme leader had finally broken, crying uncontrollably. She could not even stand on her own.

Chromia felt hollow inside. As the tomb went further and further into space, the more the hollowness filled her, and she wished there was something she could do to bring it back.

"Chromia . . ."

She turned around slowly to see Kup, Ultra Magnus, Rodimus Prime, and Springer standing there. All four were watching her with worry and concern and compassion. Out of them, none looked more sad and more guilty than Rodimus, and Chromia could not help but wonder why. He was not the cause of Ironhide's death.

"Are you going to be okay, lass?" Kup asked.

"Yeah." Her tone was kind and she nodded. "Yeah, I'm gonna be okay." She did not look in Elita's direction. She did not want to look in Elita's direction. Chromia could hear the sounds of her crying, and it was taking all of her strength to not break down. Ironhide would not have wanted that.

Rodimus gave her a hug, surprising her. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure. Excuse me, before Elita becomes too hysterical." She smiled kindly at them before walking over to embrace her friend and lead her out.

The four watched her go, and Rodimus exhaled softly.

"She's trying so hard . . ." Kup murmured. "And she's lost so much."

"We know, Kup. We know."

Springer looked at them. "What do you think is crossing her mind?"

"That, Springer, my boy, is hard to say when it comes to Chromia. She's got more on her mind than what she's letting on," Kup said. "When she's ready, she'll let us know."

"If she's ever ready," Rodimus murmured. Somehow, he did not think Chromia would ever be ready to tell anyone what she was truly feeling and thinking. Only one possessed that privilege, and his body was now heading for deep space. Shaking his head, Rodimus turned and headed for the command center.

Once she got Elita back to her quarters and calmed down, Chromia sat down at her console. The journal was in front of her. She stared at it dully, willing it to giver her answers without her having to actually open the blasted thing.

Finally, she lifted it up. She spoke softly as she gazed at it, and she turned it over in her hands.

"You said you dedicated something to me. It's time I found out what it was," she said.

She typed in a series of numbers and waited for the information to load. A soft beep told her it was done. She leaned forward to read the first entry.

 _:I love her. No matter how much she drives me crazy, I love her and I always will. One day I hope to have the chance to really show her just how much I do. She's everything I've ever wanted. . .:_

Chromia shut the journal down before she could read any more. The words Ironhide had written only confirmed what she had known all along, and she was not sure if she could the rest. She did not see Elita standing in the doorframe.

"I miss your smile, I miss your kiss. I just wanna be with you, why does it have to hurt like this? I just wanna hold you close, feel your heart so close to mine but that's a moment gone for all the rest of time."

Chromia sighed. "I love you, too, Ironhide. More than what you could ever know. I just wish I could have told you that sooner."

Elita turned away, leaving Chromia alone.

* * *

 _"Left with a memory and time on her hands,  
left to a lifetime of unfinished plans.  
Left all alone by the one very man  
who would never have left her alone."_  
- _Invisible Boyfriend_ , Continental Drifters, 1995

The next morning none of the Autobots saw either Elita or Chromia. Worried, Rodimus and Ultra Magnus walked to Chromia's quarters. Gently, Rodimus wrapped on the door. No one answered. He knocked twice more before the door slid open to reveal an exhausted-looking Elita-1.

"Elita, is everything all right?"

She nodded. Then she tilted her head.

"Have you seen Chromia at all?"

Her question surprised them. Rodimus and Ultra Magnus glanced at each other then turned their attentions back to Elita.

"No. We thought she was still here."

Elita's optics brightened in alarm. "No, she isn't. I looked before I answered. She got up before I did."

Rodimus and Ultra Magnus looked at each other again, this time in surprise. Then Rodimus started to move.

"Let's go find her."

Elita was gone before Ultra Magnus said it, and both Mechs were hurrying to catch up with the pale pink Femme.

Twenty minutes later, they were outside, searching the woods near Autobot City. They found Chromia sitting near a lake, a small datapad in her hands. She looked up as they approached.

"Hey," she said, smiling at them. She pressed a button on the datapad.

"Is everything okay, Chromia?" Ultra Magnus asked. They sat next to her.

"As good as they can be," she replied with a shrug. She turned her attention back to her datapad.

"How come you're out here?" Rodimus watched her carefully, noting the sad, haunted look in her optics. His gears felt like they were twisting into knots, and he felt it was unfair that she had to lose Ironhide. He also feared Ironhide's death would eventually lead to Chromia's. A vision of the light blue Femme, cold and grey, entered his mind, and he suppressed a shudder. He did not want that to happen. Chromia was a good friend and someone he respected. To lose her would be just as devastating as losing Ironhide and Optimus.

"To be alone for a while," she murmured.

"If you'd like, we can . . ."

"It's okay, Rodimus. I don't mind. I was getting ready to head back, anyway." She slowly got to her feet and started to walk back to the city. They got up to follow her. . .

A year passed after the Autobots had sent their fallen comrades into deep space. Life was becoming normal once again.

Elita felt it was time for her and Chromia to finally be on their own. As much as she cared for and worried about her best friend, there was not much more she could do. She did not know what plans Ironhide and Chromia had made for their lives after the war; they had never told anyone. Elita felt as if she was a constant reminder of what was never going to be. She was keenly aware of the time that was left; she was even more aware of what left with that time: memories. After a while and much looking, Elita moved into different quarters.

"Do you ever feel lonely?"

"Sometimes I do. When I think about what might have been, I really do, and it hurts. It's almost unbearable at times. Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering."

"What else do you wonder?"

"I wonder about Chromia and if she ever feels lonely."

"I'm sure she does. Despite their tumultuous relationship, Ironhide wouldn't have left her alone. He really did love her, and I know they had plans. What those plans actually were, I don't know, but I know they had made them, come what may. He would never have left her willingly."

"You think so?" Arcee looked at her in wonder.

Elita nodded and smiled. "I know so. Optimus and I were not all that different."

The two Femmes looked across the room to see Chromia standing there, alone. The light blue Femme seemed content, for the moment, though the sadness continually lined her features.

"What do you think she's not telling us, Elita? What is it she's seeing that we can't?"

"That, Arcee, I don't know. I wish I did, though."

Kup and Springer joined them at that moment, diverting their attention away from Chromia.

Rodimus and Ultra Magnus were also watching Chromia from across the room, though the Autobot leader still was not sure why. It was something Ultra Magnus had said, something that baffled Rodimus so he had to see for himself.

"Are you sure, Magnus?" he asked.

"I'm sure. Just watch, Rodimus."

The music in the room changed from upbeat and fast to slow and mellow. Chromia's optics closed, a soft smile spreading across her face. She leaned back, lost in the moment, chuckling every now and then. She even said something in response, though there was no one standing next to her. Her optics then opened and she turned to her right, still smiling. Rodimus felt a terrible wrenching in his chest when Chromia's face dropped. He could almost hear her voice as she mouthed the words.

 _"Please forgive me- I know not what I do. Please forgive me- I can't stop lovin' you. Don't deny me this pain I'm going through. Please forgive me- if I need you like I do. Oh believe me- what I say is true. Please forgive me- I can't stop lovin' you."_

She hung her head slightly and turned her attention back to the crowd, a gentle smile for the world to see. No one else seemed to have noticed what had transpired, and Rodimus wanted to scream out.

"I'm glad Optimus isn't here to see this, Magnus. I don't know how he'd react to this," he said. "Hell, I'm not even sure how he'd be reacting to Ironhide's death."

"I know, Rodimus. I know. But there isn't much we can do. Hopefully with time she'll be okay. Hopefully we'll all be okay."

Rodimus nodded, but uncertainty continued to nag at him as well as doubt. He also could not shake the feeling that what little time they had left with Chromia was fast becoming short, and it would not take much for something to happen to kill the light blue Femme.

 _Please, Ironhide, please . . . help her find the strength she needs to continue living. You're the only one who can._

* * *

 _"Sometimes I think I can see him myself  
with his arms wrapped around her, the picture of health.  
Grinning at her, just as they were  
before the impossible happened."_  
- _Invisible Boyfriend_ , Continental Drifters, 1995

As the time passed, neither Ultra Magnus nor Rodimus saw a change in Chromia. She kept mostly to herself, even when she joined everyone in the Rec Room. No one could explain it though more than a few had theories. A few even thought their beliefs were confirmed on a couple of occasions.

However, they did not have the time to ponder what kept Chromia at bay. The Hate Plague was spreading rapidly, and it was taking everything everyone had to fight the infection.

Chromia disappeared during the Hate Plague. She had taken a small shuttlecraft and went into deep space. The shuttlecraft had a cloaking device, fortunately, and it allowed her to escape at a time when she felt she needed to get away.

After flying for about a day and a half, she put her shuttle on auto-pilot and did something she had not done in a long time, not since Rodimus and Ultra Magnus had delivered the one of the worst pieces of news in her life: she cried.

Rodimus had told her that Optimus Prime had destroyed the Memorial Tomb. The Quintessons had resurrected the former Autobot leader so they could trap the Autobots and exterminate them. She did not want to believe what he had told her so she had flown into space to be sure.

When she had reached the last known coordinates for the tomb she came across debris. A small object in particular had caught her attention, and she maneuvered the ship so she could retrieve it. Once it was in the ship, she cleaned it off. It was then that she had set the ship on autopilot. In her hands she held a square piece of metal, red in colour. On it was the Autobot sigil, and it felt painfully familiar in her hands. She knew it as well as she knew her own skin, and devastation washed over her once again. It was one of the remaining pieces of Ironhide . . .

After a few breems, she gained some composure. Putting the metal in her subspace compartment she headed back to Earth, to Autobot City. The Hate Plague was gone by the time she got back so she remained blissfully unaware of the events that had transpired.

Quietly, Chromia made her way back to her quarters. She saw no evidence of the Hate Plague as she walked down the corridor. Punching in the security code once she reached her door, she entered and exhaled heavily.

Chromia remembered the day the Memorial Tomb was launched; she remembered the hollow feeling inside her chest. Now she felt as if someone had ripped her chest apart and pulled out her fuel pump for her to see. If there had been any hope that Ironhide could be revived, just like Optimus had been, it was now gone forever. Chromia slid to the floor, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks as her world topsy-turvied again. She did not try to stop the tears; they were going to come anyway. Chromia brought the metal out of subspace and held it close to her, saying, "I love you, I love you," repeatedly . . .

The next morning, Chromia left Autobot City, quietly. She carried her small datapad in one hand, and she walked with a strength and a determination she no longer felt. The odd thing was, though she knew no one was with her, she felt as if someone were walking with her, a person she could not see but whom she recognized nonetheless. A hand clasped her shoulder and squeezed it in reassurance, but Chromia did not dare look. She did not want to turn, hoping to see him there, but never see him again. Losing him twice was crushing enough.

Outside the city, she headed for the lake. She did not realize she was being followed by someone other than her ghostly companion.

At the lake, Chromia sat down and looked at the datapad. She did not need to bring up the contents, but she did so anyway. It was similar to Ironhide's journal yet it was different. The lists scrolled by slowly: The Things I Love Most About Ironhide, Our Plans for After the War, The Things I Miss Most About Ironhide . . .

It had seemed silly to her at first for starting the lists but, in the end, getting her thoughts into the datapad had been almost therapeutic to her so she had continued to do so. The lists also helped her in keeping Ironhide's memory alive, and it amazed her to see how long those lists had become. No details had been left out, and, for a moment, she could pretend the final battles never happened. The destruction of the Memorial Tomb never happened. The last three Terran years never happened. It was just a bad dream she would wake from and tell Ironhide about when he awoke.

As she looked at it, at the things she missed and wanted the most, at the things she knew beyond any doubt she would never have again, she wanted to cry. Instead, she smiled, rather sadly, and shut the datapad off. She did not care anymore if anyone saw it or if it continued to exist. She knelt down and set the pad into the waters of the lake, watching as it slowly drifted out of sight.

Hot Rod watched in the shadows, not wanting to disturb her. The moment belonged to her, and he could see her sorrow radiating from her. It was like a cloak she carried with her at all times, and it caused his heart to ache at seeing her so saddened. His news about the Memorial Tomb had not helped Chromia in the least. He waited for a few moments before he stepped out, pretending he did not see what had just transpired.

"Hey Chromia . . ."

Startled, she looked up. When she it was him, she offered him a faint smile.

"Hey, Roddy. What's up?"

He shrugged. "Eh. Not much today. Where did you disappear to?" He had an idea as to where she had gone, but he wisely decided to not say anything. She was already grieving, worse than when he first delivered the news of Ironhide's death.

"Nowhere in particular. Why? Elita upset with me?" she asked. She then approached him.

"Not that I'm aware of. How . . .?"

"I didn't catch the Hate Plague," she said. Hot Rod blinked, astounded. He knew she had disappeared, but he did not think she knew about the nasty red virus that had nearly consumed the universe.

She caught his confused look. "I caught some snippets of news before I came out here. Ironhide had a bad habit of watching it before leaving for his shifts. I just never changed the times the console goes off."

"Ah." He grinned at her, even though he knew what he was about to say could destroy her spirit even more. "But do you know the really, really good news?"

"What would that be?"

"Optimus is back!" he exclaimed. He probably said it more enthusiastically than what he should have, but he could not help himself. It was a relief to no longer be burdened by the Matrix and the responsibilities of being the Autobot leader.

"What?"

He then sat down and told her what had happened in her absence. All the while, he felt like he was stabbing her in the chest.

Several times throughout the day Ultra Magnus had tried to tell Optimus about Chromia but to no avail: Every time he tried to mention the light blue Femme, her odd behaviour and the potential reasons for her mannerisms, someone interrupted the conversation. By the end of the day, Ultra Magnus was exhausted beyond words. He hoped Optimus was as well. He was about to settle in for some recharge when someone knocked on his door, completely forgetting what he had wanted to tell Optimus in the first place.

"Come on, Magnus, let's go!" Springer's voice called out. "There's a party in the Rec! We are celebrating!"

Grudgingly, he got up and went to the Rec Room with Hot Rod and Springer. For some reason, the thought of celebrating was horribly wrong. What reason did they have to party, anyway?

The first thing they noticed right away was Optimus and Elita, arms wrapped around each other. Both the Autobot leader and the Femme appeared happy, happy beyond words, and they were talking to each other. Across the room stood Chromia, lost in thought as usual, and dread filled Ultra Magnus. He now realized why the thought of celebrating seemed so wrong, and he felt physically sick.

"Oh no . . ." Hot Rod was in shock. Apparently, the younger Mech had not expected the Femme second-in-command to be there. He grabbed Magnus' arm. "You were with him all day. Does he know about . . . ?"

"No. Every time I tried to tell him, we were interrupted."

"Maybe if we could distract one of them, we could . . ." the orange and yellow Mech began.

"It's too late, Hot Rod. I think he's already seeing it."

From where he stood, Optimus kept watching Chromia. The Femme stood a fair distance away from the other Autobots, an energon drink in hand. Why she remained aloof, the Autobot leader could not say with any certainty. It was very unlike Chromia to be alone anywhere. There was something missing from the picture, and it took Optimus a moment to realize what that something was, or rather, that someone.

 _Ironhide . . . He should be here with her . . . He's the one who's missing from this picture. They should be celebrating . . . together._

However, the older Mech was not there. Optimus had seen the names of the casualties from that final battle at Autobot City. The crew of the shuttle never made it to Earth. Ironhide never made it to Earth, and the Autobot leader felt his friend's loss keenly.

 _But not like she is . . . They were in love . . . I know they were,_ he told himself. _He should be **here**._

Then, for a moment, he thought he saw Ironhide standing next to Chromia, his arms about her waist, and smiling. He looked healthy, too, and happy, like he had never shot down and killed by a Decepticon raiding party.

Prime felt guilty as he shook that image out of his head. _No, Ironhide's dead. He couldn't be standing there._ The image faded, and Optimus felt worse for it. He watched as Chromia smiled kindly at everyone and answered questions when asked.

 _She's changed. Things will never be the same again,_ he thought sadly. He looked at Elita and held her close, thankful for the second chance he had been given.

* * *

 _"But all that I know is her pain's multiplied  
by the days, the weeks, the months since he died.  
She starts to leave and there by her side  
goes the invisible boyfriend."_  
- _Invisible Boyfriend_ , Continental Drifters, 1995

"What was he like, Optimus?"

Lightspeed, one of the Technobots, had approached him in the Rec Room. For a moment, Optimus could not think of his name or how the other Mech had come into existence. Then he remembered, and he could not help but think of just how proud Wheeljack would be of Grimlock for what the Dinobot had accomplished. However, the Autobot leader did not know whom Lightspeed was mentioning. There were many Mechs the Technobot would never have the pleasure of meeting, and Optimus could only guess he meant Wheeljack.

"What was who like?" he asked. It was better to err on the side of caution in this case.

"Ironhide, Chromia's boyfriend," Lightspeed replied. His answer momentarily stunned Optimus. Then he smiled behind his mask.

"He was one of the kindest Autobots I've ever known. A bit stubborn, and he liked to tell stories, much like Kup. Why do you ask?"

Lightspeed just shrugged. He fidgeted a little as well. "No particular reason, I guess. His death just seems to have really affected her."

"It has, Lightspeed. You're very perceptive. How did you find out about them?"

"You can see the pain in her optics," he replied. "I asked Grimlock about it, but he wasn't really keen on answering me right away. When he did, he seemed really upset about something."

He turned around and watched Chromia as she got lost in a song. Optimus followed his gaze.

"I wish I could have gotten to know him," he said wistfully.

The song soon ended, and the light blue Femme returned to reality. A sad look crossed her features then she headed for the door. Optimus watched Chromia leave, noting a faint smile she tossed to her right.

"It's like he's walking with her, isn't it, Optimus?"

"Yes, it is, Lightspeed. Yes, it is."

 _:I feel him by my side everyday. It hurts not being able to hold him, to touch him when I'm insecure, or to kiss him and tell him how much I love him. All I can do is wait and pray for the day when we are reunited again and happiness is ours once more:_


End file.
